From the Diary of Lavender Brown
by MuffinPuppet
Summary: This is HBP from Lavender's point of view, her diary entries chronicling her thoughts on Ron, Hermione, Harry, swots, her friends, her hair, and everything on her radar.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Diary,

I'm so sorry I haven't written in you all summer! I've spent most of it here at Parvati and Padma's house, and that's all there is to tell, really. Besides, I can't let Parvati and Padma see me writing in you because then they both would want to read you. I might possibly let Parvati (I wrote the part where I was rude about her new dress robes last term in invisible ink, because you see I was sorry to say it but they looked simply frightful, I would have said she looked stunning in anything before I saw her in orange, which is simply _not _her color), but then I suppose I would have to let Padma as well and I have said a number of things about her as you know. So you've been in my trunk all summer for my protection, sorry! Both of them are asleep now, though, and I feel as if you're a friend I've fallen out of touch with so I'm taking the opportunity to write now.

There is less than a week of summer holiday left. There's not much to tell about my summer; it's been rather dull, to tell the truth. The only noteworthy event was getting our O.W.L. results. I got five O.W.L.s, an 'E' in Divination, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology, and an 'A' in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Then I got a 'P' in History of Magic and Potions. I hardly care about those--in fact, I'm so glad I never have to take another lesson from Professor Snape, who's just vile as I've often said--I mean, when was the last time he washed his hair? _Eurgh_--or Professor Binns, who's about as exciting as a pair of last year's shoes. But no doubt I'm a disgrace to the D.A. getting an 'A' in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Parvati got an 'E'. She also got an 'O' in Divination, which I was a bit jealous about. Divination is the one subject I sincerely enjoy, but then, it's only grades. Who honestly cares? Swots who have nothing better to worry about, that's who.

Mr. and Mrs. Patil are rather freaked out by all this business with You-Know-Who and have barely let us go anywhere. Oh, I'm sorry, I don't suppose I've told you the news, have I? Oh dear, I'm sorry to have to tell you, but as it turns out, Harry really was telling the truth. You-Know-Who showed up at the Ministry of Magic a couple of months ago and now there have been all sorts of murders and Death Eater activity. I mean, obviously _I'd _believed it already, seeing as I was more or less _forced _to. All I ever said was that Harry was asking rather a lot expecting the whole world to believe that the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey that he and Cedric Diggory touched at the same time and turned up in a graveyard where You-Know-Who just happens to be, never mind the fact that he disappeared off the face of the earth practically forever ago, and You-Know-Who kills Cedric but for some reason keeps Harry alive -- even though no one ever had more reason to be mightily miffed with Harry, or anyone for that matter, than You-Know-Who has, sorry to say it, and isn't this the person known for killing anyone who cocks an eyebrow in his presence, let alone kicked him out of existence or whatever it is Harry did when he was a baby -- then _poof_! He's back to full power right there and Harry is not only still alive but remains so long enough to come back here toting Cedric Diggory's body. Oh yes, that is absolutely credible! But express the teeniest reasonable doubt in front of any one of my goody-goody fellow Gryffindors and someone (not naming any names...coughing...Hermione...coughing) is bound to take the opportunity to be self-righteous about it and make you out to be an absolute traitor or something of the sort. And then when the D.A. started up you were pretty much akin to an Umbridge cronie if you didn't jump at the chance...besides, I _did _want to learn enough Defense Against the Dark Arts to pass my O.W.L. Still, though, it was a bit of a comfort to think, even while training to fight You-Know-Who, that Harry _could _be lying, or disturbed, that it was in fact most likely.But now You-Know-Who really is out in the open...sort of, I mean, I still don't have a clue what he even looks like, but apparently he's getting down to business now.

Anyway, that's why we've been more or less stuck in the house. The Patils have a lovely big yard but they don't even let us go very far on their own land! You'd think we were _children_ or something. They let us fly around out back a bit but say they should always be able to see us when they look out the window. And none of us three are big fliers anyway. The wind wreaks havoc with our hair. And we _still _can't use magic at home. So there has been nothing much to do. All Padma wants to do is send owls back and forth to Anthony Goldstein and in the meantime carry on about it as though she were dating Gilderoy Lockhart, honestly. Here I've always thought for some reason that the summer I was sixteen would be spent meeting boys and getting snogged--ha! What was I thinking, that gorgeous Quidditch stars would be popping out from Mrs. Patil's tea kettle?--and the extent of the romance in my summer has been hearing Padma gloat about her prefect boyfriend.

We didn't even get to go to Diagon Alley for school supplies until today because Mr. and Mrs. Patil have been putting it off as long as possible. Apparently You-Know-Who is staked out there just waiting for little old us. I'm being sarcastic just so you know. I mean, who died and made us Harry Potter? No one has it in for _me_, thank you very much. Anyway, they made a frightful big deal of it, this one little trip. They insisted on hovering about the three of us the whole time we were there, even though there was pretty much no one in Diagon Alley. It's changed so much it is a little depressing. We saw barely anyone, let alone friends from school. I must say, though, I was glad that Parvati's parents were chaperoning us when we passed an ugly little man selling amulets that you'd have to be crazy to buy -- I mean, they were plain tarnished silver welded into hideous shapes like flat evil dragon faces, I ask you, what outfit would they go with? None in _my _wardrobe, I'll tell you that. Anyway, the seller harassed us! He looked Parvati, Padma, and me up and down and said, "Pretty girls like you need protection, doncheh?" Parvati and I just found it so funny that we couldn't help but giggle. _I've-got-a-boyfriend _Padma just looked disdainfully bored.

Parvati and Padma turn heads everywhere they go, with their glowing mocha skin, ebony hair, and large dark chocolate eyes. They are identical twins, but I still like to think of Parvati as the better-looking one. Padma is not as nice or fun as my best friend. She has an annoying superior air about her, as do all Ravenclaws, I think. Oh, she's very proud of herself, Padma is, a beauty and a model student as well! Not only is she a Ravenclaw (my term for "swot"), but a prefect too. Parvati and I never dreamed of being prefects, and though this was partly because Hermione Granger was a sure thing for it from day one, it was mostly because we simply have better things to do.

Parvati and Padma are known at Hogwarts as "the best-looking girls" in our year, which I resent. (People only say the two of them so as to represent more than one House in their judgment, I think, rather than making out Gryffindors to be the best in every way even though everyone knows that we are.) As I've told you, I am by no means bad-looking! I have long blonde hair and, sorry to say it, very nice curves.

The only place with any life in all of Diagon Alley was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Remember Fred and George Weasley, the twins who played all those tricks on Umbridge last year? It's their joke shop. Even though it was nice to see a place with a bit of color, I didn't really plan to go in -- what would a joke shop sell that _I _can use? Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms? _Eurgh! _Parvati wanted to go in and say hello, though, so we did.

It wasn't as vile as I thought it would be. They had a whole section just for girls. It was all pink and cute. The three of us must have spent twenty minutes at least looking over everything. There were a lot of love potions -- though I pity the girls who have to resort to _those_. They also had charms in a bottle that give you really realistic daydreams, which Parvati and I did buy because the picture of the boy on the bottle was gorgeous and we wouldn't mind thinking for twenty minutes or so that we were snogging _him_.

Fred--or George, _I _don't know which is which, does anyone?--did come over to offer help and say hi. We didn't chat long, of course--we don't know them _that_ well. I mean, everyone knew who they were at Hogwarts, but I don't know how much they ever noticed us. But because we know Ron and Ginny well enough we asked how they were, and the twin we were talking to said that they had "rather different opinions of the current living arrangements at home."

"What d'you mean?" I asked.

"Remember the Triwizard champion from Beauxbatons?" Fred/George (oh, let's just say it was George, who always seemed the more agreeable of the two) said. "Fleur Delacour?"

"Oh, of course, she was beautiful!" Parvati said. "Have you seen her around?"

"You might say that," George said. "You also might say she's engaged to our brother."

"_Percy?_" I said incredulously. "How did someone like _him _get someone like _her_? He was a swot if ever there was one!"

When George was done laughing, he said, "He's actually worse these days, but Fleur's safe from him. She's engaged to Bill."

"Oh. The one everyone says was so good at Quidditch."

"No, that was Charlie. This is Bill."

Poor Ginny Weasley, growing up with so many brothers! I don't have a brother but I hear they're a dreadful bother to have.

"Anyway, Fleur's staying with the family...with mixed reception. Mum and Ginny, er...don't care for her, actually. Ron's not complaining, though. Ginny tells me he's taken up hovering about her, begging like a puppy for a kiss on the cheek."

I haven't really told you much about the younger Weasleys, have I? They don't really catch your eye much--well, except till last year. When Ginny Weasley came to school I thought, "Poor thing, she'll _never _get noticed." Painfully freckly and carrot-haired, she was so small and mousy she honestly looked like you could step on her and make her disappear. She sealed her fate as someone to be pitied in my eyes when she wrote a love poem for Harry and one of those ugly little dwarves sang it to him in front of a bunch of people. Parvati and I used to laugh good-naturedly about her little crush on Harry--good luck _there_, sweetie. True, she did have an advantage over the rest of his admirers in that her brother was his best friend and he spent holidays with her family and everything, but it wasn't having much effect as far as anyone could see, and honestly, what did she expect, being such a backward mouse all the time? You can't rely on circumstance for everything; a girl has got to take the initiative when it comes to boys, because goodness only knows _they _scarcely ever do. Boys don't really know what they want, that's why they need us to figure it out for them.

Ginny Weasley has come a long way, though. Believe it or not, she is now pretty much the queen of her year. She got a boyfriend--Michael Corner, Ravenclaw, seventh year, not at all bad-looking--at the Yule Ball and after that she pretty much just had to sit back and watch the fortune roll in. All the sudden she seemed to have won the genetic lottery; her hair started to make you think of roses rather than carrots, she now seemed fashionably petite instead of mouselike, and her freckles faded to a mere cute accessory. Also, suddenly she is Miss Personality, witty, confident, charming, the works. She was never friendless but now she was definitely in with the right people. And to cap it all, she made the Quidditch team last year. When she ditched Michael--mistake if you ask me--a new boyfriend was at her feet before she could say "eenie meenie minie mo"--Dean Thomas, you know who he is, the one in our year who I used to think fancied Parvati. Ginny is far too popular these days to think about Harry Potter at all, so Parvati and I have lost _that _particular gossip thread. (Don't worry, though--the new year is sure to bring plenty more romantic intrigue to talk about! Our classes--except for Divination, the most fascinating thing I've ever studied--are all so frightfully dull that I don't know how I would get along without a fresh tide of gossip each year.)

As for Ron, he's in our year as you know, but I think I have probably talked about him the least of all my classmates to you, diary. I always saw him as not quite worth my attention--not cool enough to admire and not pathetic enough to pity, simply not interesting enough to say much about. He is, as you know, best friends with Harry Potter so I guess you could say he's in a _somewhat _lofty social position, but I always thought he must've gotten into Harry's selective little circle by some fluke accident. I mean, what's special about him, you ask? Absolutely nothing. In fact, he is a bit annoying to tell the truth. He's a prefect as well, but a less likely prefect you never knew--he is not a swot in the least, quite the opposite. In any case, we have nothing to do with each other. He speaks maybe one sentence to me a year, and I make a point of saying even less than that to him. The only brushes with him that stick out in my mind at all are when he sympathized with the death of my baby rabbit Binky in third year right in Hermione Granger's face (who was being all clinical about it as usual), and in fourth year when he made a rather inappropriate comment at me. And then, if you count it, when Harry asked me if I would go to the Yule Ball with him because goodness knows no one else wanted to, but I was already going with Seamus, thank goodness (it was Padma that got landed with Ron--she wasn't so high and mighty then, was she, no one better to go with than Ron Weasley!). Now I'm going to cry thinking about Binky.

But last year sort of marked a change for Ron as well. When he made it onto the Quidditch team I assumed he'd do just fine; athletic talent does seem to run in his overlarge family. After the first game of the season, however, I was thinking, "Oh, this is just too sad." Not only was he absolutely horrible at it, but the Slytherins made up a mean song about him and how he was their king because he was going to win the game for them and sang it for the whole school to hear during the game. I don't think I've ever felt so embarrassed for anyone, ever! (The song was a bit catchy, though, and I actually found myself singing it softly sometimes and giggling at the words.) But then he got his act together in time for the Quidditch final and was quite fantastic, actually. It was amazing to watch; there he was, messing up and being pathetic as usual, then out of nowhere kicks in and blocks every single goal like lightning or something. I guess there really is hope for _everyone_. So Gryffindor won and everybody raised Ron on their shoulders and handed him the Quidditch Cup and treated him like a right hero for days. They even rewrote the song about him to be flattering. So I guess you could say he is well-known and even admired in his own right now. It's a funny thing, when there is someone you have always seen in one way and then you're abruptly pushed into seeing them in another, very different light. I must say that the Weasleys seem to age well. I mean, obviously there is Ginny, and then there is Ron, who I used to think looked like, sorry to say it, a scarecrow with red hair. But he has grown into his gangly height; in fact, it works quite well for him now. And red hair on boys is actually quite attractive when you think about it. I don't suppose Ron Weasley is a lost cause at all. He may turn out nicely yet.

Anyway, George was called away by a customer then and we left. There was nothing else left to do in Diagon Alley after that; the ice cream parlor is gone and everything. I sometimes wonder if everyone is taking this Fear You-Know-Who thing a bit too far. I mean, I know there have been deaths and everything, but he seems for the most part to be keeping to himself--is it really such an international crisis? I used to think that if he really was back I'd feel different somehow, that everything in my life would have gone to pieces and I'd know nothing but fear and misery and wouldn't care about anything or even really be me anymore, but my affairs are just fine, thank you. I mean, if everyone would stop being such ninnies about it, my life wouldn't be any different at all, really. I'm the same Lavender Brown today as ever I was and who is going to change that?


	2. Chapter 2

Well, I forgot to add author's notes to the first chapter so here's the deal

_Well, I forgot to add author's notes to the first chapter so here's the deal. This is my first fanfic after eight years of being a maniacal Harry Potter fan. Until now I've resolutely refused to write or even read much fanfiction because I prefer writing original fiction, but I've decided to give it a try to kill time till the HBP movie. Needless to say, readers/reviewers are important to me so please R&R! Thank you so much to my first reviewer and favoriter!_

Dear Diary,

Well, it's the last day of the summer holidays. Tomorrow we go back to Hogwarts. Normally I board the train a bit more grudgingly but this year I actually welcome the prospect of school, where there is sure to be new gossip and talk about the occasional thing other than You-Know-Who. Also, this year I won't have as many classes so I'll have much more free time. Obviously I won't be continuing Potions or History of Magic, and the very idea of taking N.E.W.T. level Care of Magical Creatures is laughable. I singed enough robes and feared for my life enough at O.W.L. level, thank you very much. It was all right when Professor Grubbly-Plank was teaching it, when we got to look after cute things like unicorns and crups, but with Umbridge gone now there's fat chance of anyone sacking Hagrid so I'll leave him to his doting fan club (Harry, Ron, and Hermione will be sure to continue with it).

Not to mention there will finally be life on my planet again. I'm getting sick of having no one but Parvati and Padma for company. At least at Hogwarts there are boys. This year, I vow to get a boyfriend. I am long past due for one. I mean, there was Seamus, but you and I both know that was hardly the real deal. I knew since first year that he fancied me or that, if he didn't yet, he soon would. I have an intuition about these things as you've surely gathered by now. Sure enough, he asked me to the Yule Ball in fourth year (that was before I was even writing in you, anyone who is reading this should go to the pink diary I kept that year for a full account--not that you should be reading this...without my permission, anyway) and yes, we had a good time and he was even my first kiss as I believe I've told you, so I'm fond of him for that, but I made sure to keep it rather quiet and not let us become the subject of gossip. Seamus is sweet, but I don't think he's the kind I would want to be known around the school as my serious boyfriend. He even seemed a pretty sorry date to the Yule Ball, actually, after Parvati got asked by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger went with Viktor Krum (_Viktor Krum! _I never have recovered from _that _shock). By the end of the year I'd told him we were just friends and he was rather upset, but I had no reason to regret it. I mean, I'm not in love with Seamus! I don't think I've ever really been in love, but this year I will be, with someone. I just don't know who yet. I must weigh my options. Some boy is going to be very lucky this year, I'll tell you that much.

Most of the day we spent packing up our trunks and being rather bored. Padma finished packing first as she had done most of hers already and after that sat on her bed curling her eyelashes with her wand and going on about how she couldn't wait to see Anthony. Parvati and I kept rolling our eyes at each other; Anthony and Padma are possibly the only couple we _do_ tire of hearing about it.

"Padma, bully for you and Anthony," I said. "Now do be quiet about it."

"Oh, you're just jealous."

"Actually, Padma, you can have him."

"I mean because _I_ have a boyfriend."

"As I would if there was anyone in that sorry school that caught my fancy!"

"Oh, Lavender," said Parvati bracingly, "there must be _somebody_ worthy of you. We just need to figure out who, that's all."

"It's best if you stick to your own House and year," Padma said sagely. "Those are the ones you've sort of grown up with and know so well. That makes it so much more meaningful, when you know everything about each other..." She let her eyes mist over most convincingly to remind us that this was the case between her and Anthony.

I looked sourly at her. "That narrows it down to Seamus, Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, _Neville_ _Longbottom_, and Ron Weasley in our case, Padma. I'd like to see you find a suitor out of that pool."

"Well, whatever did happen between you and Seamus?" she asked pleasantly. "I thought the two of you fancied each other."

"She doesn't fancy him anymore," Parvati said quickly, to save me from having to go into it with Padma. Rude of her to ask, really--for all she knew it was a painful topic for me.

"Well, perhaps his best friend might put your heart back together again, no?" said Padma. "Dean?"

"Padma," I said in disbelief. "Everyone knows who he's going out with." Honestly, does she even try to keep up with gossip? Whatever does she think about?

"All _right_, I didn't know. And then I s'pose Harry Potter is miles out of your league..."

"He's not out of our league!" said Parvati indignantly. "He asked me out once, remember?"

"Oh, big deal, the Yule Ball," said Padma impatiently. "He barely even paid attention to you."

"I know, and _that's_ why neither of us would consider him. He's awfully picky. He fancies the Cho Chang type." The Cho Chang type means pretty, overwhelmingly popular, and good at Quidditch. Only the best for _Harry Potter_, of course. Or what's _his_ opinion of the best, anyway. It's like I always say, boys don't know.

"Who d'you think he'll go for next?" I asked Parvati eagerly. Everyone knows Cho Chang is going out with Michael Corner, Ginny Weasley's ex, now, and Parvati and I enjoy theorizing about who certain people will come to fancy. We have quite a knack for sensing it, as I've already said.

"So you really aren't after Harry for yourself, either of you?" Padma asked incredulously.

Surprisingly, no, we're not. The truth is the novelty of having a heroic celebrity in your class fades rather quickly. Even with him defeating You-Know-Who pretty much every year and what not, he's depressingly ordinary when you get to know him. Parvati and I have barely given him a romantic thought ever. Parvati was rather giggly and excited when he asked her to the Yule Ball, but since he was such a poor date to her neither of us have had the remotest interest since.

"Well," Padma went on, smirking slightly, "what about Neville Longbottom, then?"

I laughed, but when Parvati didn't I stopped. I contented myself instead with saying, "Er--no, I don't think so."

"Well then," said Padma, "I suppose you don't have many options among your classmates, but--"

"Oh, come now," said Parvati. "There's always Ron Weasley."

This time she did laugh--as did Padma, though rather coldly. I supposed I ought to laugh as well, so I did.

"Yeah, right," Padma snorted. "Worst date I ever had, he was."

I frowned. Just like Padma to make it sound like she's been around the block with every bloke she's ever come within a foot of.

"Maybe he just wasn't all that impressed with you," I said scathingly.

She glared at me, clearly ruffled at the idea of anyone being able to resist her. "Well," she said tightly, "he'll probably be taken soon anyway, what with him being a right little sports hero now."

"I s'pose..." I tried to amuse myself for a moment by attempting to predict Ron Weasley's romantic future as I've often predicted other people's, but found for some reason that I didn't want to.

"Oh, right, by who?" Parvati said skeptically. "The best he could get is Hermione Granger."

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. Even though Parvati has always maintained that there is something between those two and they are known to be friends, as far as I can see they aren't even real friends. Honestly, they are always bickering about something or other and they're as different as night and day. Though I stand by my opinion that Ron can be rather annoying, he's still considered rather friendly and fun on the whole. Next to Hermione, he's a delight, really. I always thought that Harry Potter's little dream team was the most unlikely combination of friends I ever saw; if they didn't have all their scary little adventures in common I doubt their friendship would even hold. I can't imagine how the three of them ever managed to connect at all, really. I wonder if sometimes Ron (the most normal of the three by far) wants out. Perhaps he thinks he just has no one else to turn to. Well, I'm sure that's not true. I'm sure there's plenty of people who'd be glad to have him for a friend, or even a boyfriend. Like I said, he may not be my cup of tea but I can see he's not altogether hopeless.

"I'm being perfectly serious," said Parvati. "Exactly why was he being such a prat at the Yule Ball, Padma?"

Padma scowled at Parvati, then said resentfully, "Because he was watching Hermione Granger and Viktor Krum the whole time."

"That's because Viktor Krum is an international Quidditch player, Padma," I said patiently. "_Everyone_ was watching him."

"And then," Padma pressed on, "when she came to sit down with us he was awfully upset with her. They bickered for the longest time about it, you must've heard them."

"That's what Ron and Hermione do, Padma," I said. "They bicker. Ron and Hermione don't like each other much."

"Lavender, don't be silly," Parvati said. "Everyone knows they're good friends."

"Are they?" I said skeptically. "Gee, they don't act like it much, do they?"

"Why," Padma asked in a bored voice, examining her fingernails idly, "do you care so, Lavender?"

"I don't! I just think that even Ron can do better than _her_, is all. In fact, he should be able to do quite well for himself now when you think about it. The Weasleys," I said thoughtfully, recalling my words about them in my last entry, "do age well."

Parvati and Padma exchanged a look and Padma said, "Well. Does this option work for you, then, Lavender?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." And actually, I didn't.

"Have it your way, then," shrugged Padma. I could see she was tiring of pretending to care about my romantic welfare and was trying to think how best to bring the conversation back to Anthony.

I really _do_ need to start thinking seriously about who should be my boyfriend. But I don't think I want it to be some random stranger. It would be so much more romantic, I think, if it was someone who was always right there just waiting for me to see them in the right light. Yes, I think I want it to be someone who's been there all along.


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Diary,

Well, we are back at school and I mustn't stay up writing too late, as it's business as usual tomorrow, but I have a fair few things to tell you.

We arrived at King's Cross Station at half past ten this morning and boarded the train with time to spare. Padma made sure we remembered that she couldn't share a compartment with us because _she_ had to go to the prefects' carriage.

"We have to welcome the new fifth year prefects today," she told us importantly. "I can't miss that."

"We didn't ask you to," I muttered.

"Who are the new fifth year prefects?" Parvati asked.

"I don't know yet, do I? I'll find out at the meeting, so if you'll excuse me."

"Padma," I said suddenly, "can we come with you?"

Padma stiffened. "Come with me?" she said incredulously. "To the prefects' carriage? Absolutely not. You're not prefects."

"As if I'd want to sit with all those frightful swots," I said. "I just meant to peek in, you know."

Parvati looked curiously at me, and I felt my face flush. I don't know what I was saying. Why _did_ I say that? "To see who the new prefects are," I explained feebly.

"Lavender," said Parvati, "I don't care _that_ much." She was still looking at me questioningly, no doubt mystified by my new lively interest in the deadly dull affairs of prefects. I avoided her eyes, because _I_ certainly didn't know what had come over me. I couldn't care less who is made prefect, really.

"Just a peek into their compartment," I said again, in a small voice.

"Oh, all _right_," sighed Padma, though I could tell she was pleased that her kind was such a source of awe for me. I glared at her, wishing I could tell her how little I cared. "Follow me."

She led us to the prefects' carriage. Parvati whispered to me, "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

I shrugged and leaned around her to peer into the compartment as Padma entered it. The prefects get two compartments to themselves, but they all seemed to be crammed into the one for the moment to welcome the new fifth years. The only new ones that I recognized were the Gryffindors—Colin Creevey, who was in the D.A. last year and looks rather like an elf because he's so tiny, and Vicky Frobisher, renowned overachiever—but I knew who all of the sixth years were. Padma shot straight for Anthony and kissed him politely on the cheek—she wouldn't dream of tarnishing her dignified prefect image in front of the new blood. She and Anthony sat down next to the lone Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, the girl who used to be Parvati's friend when they were children but washed her hands of Parvati when they were Sorted into different Houses and Parvati made better friends like me. She was watching the door impatiently—for Draco Malfoy, I expect, who for some reason wasn't there—and turned away in disgust when she saw Parvati and me hovering at the door instead. The Hufflepuffs, the doughy duo of Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott, and the Gryffindors, Ron and Hermione, were sitting together across from the Ravenclaws and Slytherin. Ernie was addressing the assembled fifth years in an annoying pompous voice, telling them what a noble responsibility was theirs and blah blah blah, but my eyes lingered on Ron and Hermione. They were whispering seriously about something or other; I strained my ears but caught nothing more interesting than "Not like Malfoy, is it?" and "but Harry's just getting carried away." That's right—they have nothing better to talk about with each other than Harry and Draco Malfoy. I don't know why they hang around together. Even just sitting together, they looked sorrily mismatched, him being so tall and bright-eyed and bright-haired and her being woefully plain with her horribly bushy mane of dull brown hair. I looked closer at Ron; he really is okay-looking. He could get anyone he really wanted, actually.

"Let's _go_," Parvati said in my ear, making me jump. I tore my eyes away from Ron and followed her down the corridor as we looked for a compartment to sit in.

"What," Parvati asked slowly, "was that about? Since when do you care who's made prefect?"

"I don't," I said truthfully.

"Yes, I know you don't. The only one you really looked at was Ron."

"Yes, I was trying to hear what he and Hermione were whispering about."

"Come off it. You were smiling at Ron's profile like this." She put on a soppy grin that I know has never appeared on _my_ face. "Lavender—" She pulled me into an empty compartment and looked seriously at me. "—you're not starting to fancy...?"

"You know I don't know who I'll fancy this year yet."

"I mean Ron, do you fancy Ron?"

"_What?_" I had to giggle, and I'm sure you wish that you could too because you've seen from my entries that this couldn't be a more silly thing to think. "Oh, Parvati, no. I was just thinking that he could have a chance with a lot of girls if he'd only try."

"Oh...all right then," said Parvati uncertainly. She suddenly smiled mischievously in the way that she does when she has an idea for a fun conversation. "Shall we guess who he starts to go out with, then?"

"Who?"

"Ron, silly. You just said there's probably plenty of girls who'd have him."

"Oh." For some reason I felt annoyed. "I don't know."

"But you don't think it'll be Hermione?"

"I've told you, no," I said crossly.

"Who, then?"

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Why?" But there was a knowing look in her eye that I didn't like.

"Who knows, maybe because I'm getting sick of guessing who'll hook up with who." Parvati raised her eyebrows and I added hastily, "Because then there's no surprise when it happens, is there? I like the surprise."

"Lavender—"

But at that moment the compartment door slid open and three people came in—Seamus, Dean, and Ginny.

"Hi, Parvati. Hi, Lavender. Okay if we sit in here?" Dean asked brightly.

"Of course," we said together quickly, and we sat down as the train rattled into motion at last. Dean and Ginny sat down across from us and held hands quietly (they do make a bit of a sweet couple). Seamus sat down by me and grinned at me.

"Have a good summer?" he asked, in his Irish brogue that I once found too cute to be true.

"Not really," I said. "I stayed with the Patils and Parvati's parents didn't let us go anywhere, did they, Parvati?"

"No," sighed Parvati. "It was rather dull. How about you?"

"Oh, well, me mam was still worried about me coming back, only now it's because she doesn't want me to leave her protection, I s'pose." He grimaced. "I don't s'pose your summer was any more restricted than mine, really."

"You should stand up to your mother," I said. "Tell her you're not a little boy anymore, you know."

Seamus grinned. "Last year you said my mother was a wise woman and I should listen to her."

Last year Seamus and I were really the only Gryffindors in our year who dared to say that Harry was probably lying or just mental—in other words, the only ones who thought for ourselves and came to the conclusion that by all reason should've been true. As such, he was often the only one I could talk about it to without worrying about being told to keep my "fat mouth shut" (coughing...self-righteous cow, why doesn't she shut hers once in a while...coughing).

"Yes, well," I said, glancing around at all the people in the compartment who would surely jump down my throat for saying something to that effect (Ginny, for one, whose eyes had narrowed), "that was before the little Ministry thing, wasn't it?"

"Ginny was there," Dean said at once. "Ginny was there at the Ministry that night, she and Ron and Hermione and Neville were all there with Harry, weren't you, Gin?" He squeezed her hand hopefully, but she frowned at him and said, "For the last time, Dean, I do _not_ want to talk about it."

"Oh, come on. It must've been cool, actually doing what the whole D.A. thing was supposed to be preparing us for, and all that! I mean, you actually got to be there, and fight the Death Eaters, and everything!"

"I don't think 'cool' is the word I'd use," Ginny said rather heatedly. "Harry lost the most important person in the world to him that night and you all act as if—"

"He did?" I said in surprise. "Who? Cho's alive, I saw her on the platform—and they were split up! And he hasn't dated anyone else since!"

But Ginny clammed back up. Remind me to do some poking around and find out what girl Harry was secretly going out with who died at the end of last school year. It's weird because I don't remember any student's death being talked about. She must've been a Hufflepuff.

Dean let it drop but kept trying to engage Ginny in cute couplesy conversation the whole journey. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, though. She soon excused herself, saying something about looking for the lunch trolley or something, and didn't come back for the rest of the afternoon. I wondered if she'd gone to sit with some of her other friends, or Ron. It was dark by the time she finally came back, and she told us she'd bumped into Zacharias Smith, that boy from the D.A. that everyone hated, in the aisle, and gotten into a bit of trouble with him, and then the new Defense Against the Dark Arts, who she said is named Professor Slughorn, invited her to some kind of meeting.

While Ginny was still there, Seamus kept talking to me, but when she left he and Dean talked to each other, talking about Quidditch tryouts for this year and all that. I didn't listen much—I can think of a thousand things more interesting than Quidditch--but I realized they were right, the team will probably be all reorganized this year. I wonder if Ron will still be on it. It'd be an awful shame not to let him back on just when he'd gotten to be brilliant at it.

Anyway, with Seamus and Dean stopped paying much mind to us, Parvati and I put our heads together and talked about more interesting things.

"Ginny will have a new boyfriend before the year is out," I whispered. "I'm sure she likes Dean, but you can just tell."

"Who d'you think she'll go out with next?"

"It could be any number of people. The question is who _he'll_ go out with next."

"He'll sulk over her for a while, and then..." We studied Dean for a second. then Parvati decided, "I'm seeing a Ravenclaw in his future...a pretty Ravenclaw..."

"You're not getting at Padma, are you?"

"Oh, I know, what if Dean—wait for it—went out with Cho Chang? Think of it! She breaks up with one ex-boyfriend of Ginny's, and moves on to the other one!"

Really, what would I do without Parvati? Is there a more fun best friend in all the world?

When the train finally stopped and we squeezed our way through the aisles, Parvati and I found ourselves near Ron and Hermione. They were closely followed by Neville Longbottom and that Ravenclaw oddity Luna Lovegood, but no Harry. I heard Ron and Hermione whispering again, and though I didn't hear they were probably wondering where Harry was.

After the carriage ride up to the school (I'll never be comfortable in those carriages again now I know what they're being pulled by) and sitting down in the Great Hall, we noticed that Harry wasn't at the Gryffindor table, nor anywhere to be seen still. I didn't think much of it—he was probably off being a hero again, maybe saving the school from You-Know-Who or something—but I noticed Ron and Hermione still whispering fretfully together about him. Honestly, get something new to talk about, will you?

When all the food was gone, Professor Dumbledore stood up to talk to us all as usual, and oh, his hand! It's just vile—one of Dumbledore's hands is all shriveled and black and ghastly. He acted as if nothing was wrong and just went on talking, but then he made us all forget about his hand when he announced who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is. Professor Slughorn, the new man, right? Oh, wrong, my friend. Slughorn is teaching Potions, and guess who finally gets to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts? Professor Snape, that's who. Just when I thought I was rid of the man! I swear, he must know somehow I'm not taking Potions and be trying to follow me or something!

Oh, and Harry showed up just before dessert with blood all over his face. How typical of him.

I was glad to get up to our dormitory; after five years, it feels more like home than my own bedroom at home does, actually. It would be just perfect if Parvati was my only roommate. As we unpacked our trunks, Parvati said, "So, to continue what we were saying on the train before we were interrupted—"

"Oh, of course. What _were _we saying?"

"About Ron Weasley."

"What about him? Parvati, you're not going to run away with this, are you? You're usually so much better at reading people's hearts."

"I just want you to know that you don't have to...well. Be embarrassed about anything you may want to tell me, ever. Whoever you fancy is fine with me and I'd be happy for you."

"Oh, Parvati, you're so sweet. I promise to tell you as soon as I find someone." Privately, though, I thought that this was a silly thing to say. First of all, Parvati knows I'd never fancy someone that I had to be _embarrassed _about. She knows the whole reason I broke it off with Seamus was because I started to feel like he wasn't anything people would admire me for (not that he's anything to be ashamed of, it's just that nobody really even knows who he is). Not that I'm easily embarrassed—in fact, I don't get embarrassed. Why should I ever be, really? I usually know what I'm doing in matters of the heart and if I fancied someone, it would be something to be proud of and I'd want _everyone_ to know it. Surely that's the whole point!

"Well, okay. But you know, I suppose you and Ron _might_ make a—"

At that moment Hermione came in; she was later than us because she'd been herding the new students to the common room.

"Hello, Parvati, Lavender," she said in the snooty, formal tone she often takes with us, like she wants to make known her painful awareness of the fact that she is in the company of her intellectual inferiors. Let her think so, though, if it makes the poor thing feel better about being so much plainer than us.

"Hi, Hermione," said Parvati politely. "Have a nice summer?"

"Oh, yes, thank you." Hermione opened her trunk, took out a book (something about Arithmancy that looked more boring than an hour with Professor Binns), and sat down on her bed with her nose in it as if to tell us not to bother her.

"What did you do?" I asked nicely. "See Viktor at all?" (Parvati glanced up from unpacking, listening eagerly.)

"No, Lavender," she said without taking her nose out of her book. Her voice was light but I sensed in there somewhere a disdain for my polite interest in her love life. She can be so rude. "I stayed at the Burrow."

I wrinkled my nose. Honestly, who spends their summer in a _burrow_? My first thought was that it must've been her parents' idea (they're Muggles).

"Ron's house," she added, as though she could see my confusion through her book (and who knows, maybe she could; she does know a lot).

"Oh?" I said. "Do share." Parvati glanced at me suspiciously and I looked innocently back.

"Well, there's nothing to share, really. His brother's engaged, though."

"Oh yes, we heard," said Parvati. "To Fleur Delacour, yes? It's just lovely."

"I suppose." She went right on reading her dreadful dull book as though hoping to drown us out.

Honestly, sorry to say it, but I so wish we didn't have to share a room with Hermione. She could not fit in less with Parvati and me. All she cares about is schoolwork and she thinks that anyone who cares about anything more interesting than that is beneath her. Parvati and I never let her presence stop us from talking about what we please, but I can just see the disdain running through her big bushy head, I can just see it. We try our best to include her in our conversations, we do, but more often than not she scolds us for being nosy or immature! I know, the nerve of her, right? I mean, just because _she's _got all the romantic intuition of a Blast-Ended Skrewt, just because _she's_ probably about as good at reading people's hearts as Professor Snape is at washing his hair (that means absolutely horrible just so you know), it's no reason to spoil other people's fun. I have no idea what Viktor Krum saw in her (the whole thing made an interesting piece of gossip, though) and I know that Harry and Ron only hang around with her because she helps them pass their classes and because she's got all the feminine charm of a boy herself, so they probably feel right at home around her. I'll bet they don't even think of her as a girl.

It's not that I don't like Hermione. You know I'm a very nice person and have always seen fit to be nice to her. I just think she's an awful swot and a right old pain who needs to be taken down a peg or ten, that's all.

And now I really do need to go to bed. Not only do I have lessons tomorrow, but I'm writing by the light of my wand and I hear Hermione uttering sighs and other irritable noises as if to tell me she'll put me in detention if I don't turn it off. I don't much care, but even Parvati has started to moan now that I need to go to sleep, and I reckon she's right. Talk to you tomorrow, good night!


End file.
